Thinking
by AdorableAnarchist
Summary: Resa Cousland takes a moment to figure out what she's gotten herself into.
1. By the Pond

Resa leaned against the tree and stared out across the tiny pond near camp. What, by all that the Maker held dear, had she managed to get herself into? She snorted and shook her head. Fergus would have found this beyond funny. In fact, she could hear him now. "Father leaves you in charge of the castle and you become a Grey Warden raising an army to take down the Blight and quell a civil war? Well done, little sister. And here I was just worried that you had snuck Lady Landry's son into your bed chamber again." She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat at the thought of her brother.

"Resa?"

She sighed and looked up, seeing Alistair in the fading light, "What?"

"Wynne sent me to look for you. You've been out here for a while."

She looked away as he sat down beside her, "I needed to think without being distracted."

Alistair said nothing as he stared at her. Resa groaned, "What? What do you want from me? Isn't it enough I'm leading this rag-tag band? Isn't it enough I agreed to Duncan's scheme and left my family to die? Isn't it enough I'm walking quietly into a suicide mission?"

"You don't seem very quiet right now."

She gaped at him, "Surely you are not joking with me right now, are you? Because I didn't think you were that stupid."

"No, I'm poking you a bit. There's a big difference. Joking would be trying to get you to laugh. Poking is trying to make you boil over just like you did," Alistair moved to sit against the side of the tree, nudging her into sharing, "You've been quiet ever since we left Redcliffe. Quiet and cranky. It seemed to me, you had something on your mind and you needed to get it out."

"Dammit," she sighed and shook her head, "I don't know what to think any more. I have to keep up the façade of believing in this," Resa stopped, breaking off a piece of grass and rubbing it between her fingers, "Alistair, I'm scared. I'm scared of what everyone thinks when they look at me. I don't have all of the answers. I don't even know the questions."

"Duncan once told me that only good leaders have doubts."

"Then I must be a damned fine one because I'm doubting everything."

Alistair chuckled, "I'm not going to disagree," he tapped a finger against her knee, "You have more experience leading than I do and you're using that experience to our benefit. You learned from your father and brother the realities of being in battle as a commander. You know it's not easy. You will have to make decisions that could get some of us hurt or worse," he paused as Resa shuddered, "And you know, in your heart, that you will make the decisions coldly because that's what you have to do. You'll mourn, but after."

Resa hugged her knees to her chest, "What is it you always tell Wynne, oh yes," she finally cocked her head to look at him, "I hate you. You're a bad person."

Alistair laughed as he stood up, "There's the Resa I know. Ready to come back to camp yet?"

A smile hovered at the edges of her lips, "Not quite. I think I have another fifteen minutes of feeling sorry for myself left."

"Well, if you're late, I'm telling Morrigan that she's got the face of a Mabari's back end just to see what happens."

Resa groaned and stood slowly, "Fine, fine, I'm coming. The last thing we need is for the heir to the throne to be a damned frog. I don't know if they make crowns that small."


	2. In the Shadows of Ostagar

It was her turn to seek him out. It was her turn to offer what comfort that she could Resa fidgeted with her cuffs as she quietly made her way to the little pond by camp. She studied the man standing there, absently tossing pebbles into the water.

"Alistair," she stopped uncertain as what to say. He did not look up, continuing to cast the pebbles into the depths. She moved to stand beside him, watching silently.

"I didn't know him, you know," he spoke slowly, "I mean, why would I? The royal bastard isn't going to fraternize with the prince, right?"

Resa continued to stand beside him, though she gently placed her hand on his arm, stilling the pebbles for a moment. Alistair turned to her, his face drawn in the fading light of the day.

"The things they did to him, leaving him there like that," his voice broke and he tried to pull away but the tiny hand on his arm would not let go.

"Alistair," she spoke again, "You can not," Resa's lips twisted, "I was going to say that you can not let this get to you but, how can you not?"

She leaned her head against his arm, staring out over the water. Shadows danced among the reeds as the sun finally ducked behind the horizon. Together they stood, each lost in thoughts of Ostagar and what they had found.

And what they had not found.

"Resa, do you think there's a chance that…"

Resa interrupted him quickly, "Don't torment yourself like that, Alistair. Carry his sword and dagger with honor as he would have wished."

Alistair smiled slightly shook his head, "You carry the dagger. I would only use it to cut my dinner or some cheese. I think he would be happy knowing you carried it properly."

She swallowed against the lump in her throat. Damn the man and his kind gestures. _So much for being the bad ass leader. I'm going to start crying like a school girl. _She took a deep breath and cleared her throat, "I am honored."

"Well, that's settled then" Alistair turned towards camp, a false lightness to his voice, "I say we see what Sten has decided to poison us with tonight."

Resa nodded and he slung an arm companionably across her shoulders. She would not press him about Ostagar. She would simply remain at his side, just in case. She glanced up at his profile and studied it for a moment. He caught the movement and met her gaze. A look of understanding passed between them. Resa smiled and punched him lightly in the side, "Come on, if we don't hurry up, Oghren will eat all the cheese."


	3. By Firelight

It was quiet but for the crackling of the fire and the occasional snort from the direction of Oghren's bedroll. Resa treasured these times. She could simply be without fear of someone having a question or problem for her. Her shoulders would unknot a bit and she could hear herself think.

"Sovereign for your thoughts," Alistair said, tapping her shoulder as he stepped over her legs to sit on the log she leaned against. He saw the flash of irritation that crossed her face as she slowly turned towards him.

"I doubt they are worth that much," she managed a chuckle, despite her annoyance at her solitude being disrupted.

"Perhaps, but I believe value is in the eye of the buyer," Alistair stretched his legs out to the fire, unconsciously mirroring her relaxed pose – though, he refused to sit on the ground as she did.

"I was just thinking about how nice the quiet was," Resa replied, looking back to the fire once more. She sighed and stretched her arms over her head, trying to relieve more of the tension in her back, "How nice it is just to sit and not be needed for anything."

Alistair grinned down at her, "And then I come along and ruin your precious quiet. I probably should be sorry for that, you know."

His grin was infectious and Resa found herself smiling up at him. She lightly punched his knee, "Perhaps, though company is good too."

They sat in silence and Alistair marveled at how comfortable it was. He did not even feel the need to fill it with silly jokes. Resa absently leaned her head over to rest it against his knee and he froze. She sighed softly, still watching the fire. Alistair slowly reached into his pocket, feeling the fragile petals of the rose. Was now a good time, as she rested so quietly against his knee? He had planned out what he was going to say, but the words flet flat now. Would this ruin their friendship?

Unconsciously, his fingers began to brush Resa's hair back. She kept it short, almost choppy. He rather liked it that way. Resa made a happy-sounding noise and he could see her shoulders relax further. No, this was not the right time for the rose. He would save it. For now, he would just enjoy the fire, the company, and the quiet.


	4. In the Heat of Battle

"And I said you're being a damnable fool," Resa shouted, her hands clenched by her sides. She had to do something, anything, to keep from hitting him.

"I'm the fool? I am the fool," Alistair's voice rose with each word. He stalked closer to her until they stood all but toe to toe. The height difference did not bother her as he towered over her. If anything, she drew herself up more proudly, eyes flashing up at him. A tiny part of him had to admit she was rather striking with anger lighting her eyes and flushing her cheeks. Pity she was being so blasted stupid.

Alistair poked her in the chest, "He's an assassin," each word was enunciated to make sure she understood. He continued to poke with each syllable, "He was sent to kill you. You don't make friends with assassins sent to kill you."

"If you poke me one more time, I will break off that finger and shove it so far up your arse, you'll be able to scratch your liver," Resa growled.

She ignored the whoop of laughter from Zevran and Wynne's scandalized gasp. She had grown up with her big brother as her hero and learned how to curse with Fergus and his men. Resa narrowed her eyes as she stepped closer to Alistair and poked him in the chest, "You decided to make me the leader, remember? So that means what I say goes. The assassin stays."

Alistair started to speak then just growled in frustration. He turned away, throwing his hands up in the air, "Fine, fine! But don't come crying to me when he crawls into your tent and stabs you in the middle of the night."

"Actually, if I crawl into her tent in the middle of the night, I will not be looking to stab her," Zevran smiled appreciatively in Resa's direction, "I'd be happy to detail what I would do, ser Warden, to get your approval first?"

Resa's lips twitched suspiciously as the back of Alistair's neck began to turn an odd shade of purple. She cleared her throat and shook her head, "There will be no crawling into my tent in the middle of the night, gentlemen, by anyone."

She settled down on the ground by the fire, her anger deceptively veiled, "Now then, shall we have supper and try to get along?"

Resa calmly reached for the ladle in the stew, only to have her hand grabbed. Who'd have thought Alistair could move that quickly. He jerked her to her feet and strode off towards the pond. She glanced over her shoulder at the rest of the party as she both tried to get loose and catch her balance. If the grins on their faces meant anything, she was not going to be helped any time soon. _Dammit._


	5. Truces

"Let go of me, you overgrown bastard son of a Genlock," Resa aimed a kick at Alistair's ankle and only succeeded in losing her balance. He did not say a word as he dragged her out of sight of the encampment. He did not say a word as he roughly backed her up against a tree.

"Alistair," Resa started to speak. Her words turned into a muffled squeak of surprise as his lips met hers. It was not a gentle kiss or even a particularly good one. And yet, Resa found herself leaning into him, her hands resting on his shoulders.

Alistair pulled back, flushing, "I, Resa, I'm sorry. I… That's not what I had meant to do."

Resa took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heartbeat, "I see. And what had you intended to do, Alistair?"

"Well, I wanted to make you see reason about that assassin."

"So you kissed me to make me see reason," laughter softened her voice as the anger fell away. Resa studied Alistair in the dappled light of the shaded clearing. His face was flushed and he refused to meet her eyes. In fact, he was about to bore a hole into his boots if he looked at them any harder.

"No, I mean, yes," Alistair tugged on his hair in frustration, "See what I mean?"

Resa arched a brow as she settled back against the tree. Seeing Alistair like this was amusing enough to make her forget her annoyance. "Not really, no," she replied.

"I can't think when I'm around you! You drive me crazy," he paused and shook his head, "Crazy in a good way. I don't know what to think, what to do, what to say."

Resa waited patiently until he stopped to take a breath, "You could kiss me again or do you like the taste of your boots?"

Alistair stopped and frowned at her, "My boots," he started to chuckle as realization dawned, "Foot in my mouth again, then? I'm not terribly schooled in this, you know. Raised in the chantry and all that."

Resa merely smiled as she reached up to twine her arms around his neck, "Shut up, Alistair."

He grinned down at her, "Shutting up, Resa."


	6. Smitten

"Smitten."

Resa glanced up from the gorget she was carefully repairing. She muffled a curse as the rivet she had been carefully hammering back in slipped. With a sigh she looked up at Leliana.

"What?"

"I said, you're smitten," the bard chuckled and knelt beside Resa. She held the gorget as Resa tried to hammer the rivet once more. She smirked as Resa snorted.

"I don't know what you mean, Leliana," Resa replied, her brow furrowed as she kept her gaze focused on the armor.

"Oh don't think I haven't noticed the way he watches you when you aren't looking. The way he hangs on your every word," Leliana jerked her fingers away as the hammer missed its mark.

Resa groaned and dropped the hammer. She was obviously not going to get the gorget finished tonight. Not with Leliana and her little comments. Resa ran her fingers through her hair as she turned to face her friend.

"I really don't want to talk about this now," she stated firmly, "In fact, I think I'm going to check the perimeter."

Resa strode away, trying to get the memory of Leliana's grin out of her mind. It was no one's business! She wasn't smitten! Was she? Out of sight of the camp, she began to pace.

Alistair was a good man. A bit naïve, but kind, not as stupid as he pretended. She smiled softly as she thought of the rose carefully tucked away in her pack. He had called her beautiful. There was a ring of sincerity to it when he said it that she had never heard before. But then, Alistair was not particularly good at dissembling. He wasn't particularly good at flirting, but there was a bit of a learning curve there. And the kissing…

"Oh Maker's left testicle," she swore using Fergus' favorite oath. Leliana was right. Smitten. Resa closed her eyes as she sagged against a tree. She had never really had female friends, so this was new territory for her. Of course, she had never wanted for male company, but there was never feelings attached. Not like this.

He gave her a rose because she was beautiful.

Resa raised a trembling hand to her mouth, "She's right," she said.

"Who's right, Resa," Alistair asked. Resa whirled in surprise, eyes wide as she regarded him.

"Nothing, Alistair, nothing at all," she stammered.

He shrugged, willing to take her at her word for now, and offered her a hand, "Leliana says supper is ready."

"I'll be there in a moment," Resa managed a smile and waved him away towards camp, "I just need a moment."

Her eyes followed him as he returned to camp. She could feel her heart pounding and it was not just from him having surprised her. For an instant, she could almost smell the scent of roses on the air.

Smitten.

Dammit.


	7. Special Circumstances

"Am I a fool?"

Resa arched a brow at Alistair as she looked up from her blade and whetstone. She grinned, "Do you really want me to answer that?"

He frowned and moved to sit next to her. Well, flopped down beside her was more like. She managed not to roll her eyes visibly as she quickly moved the dagger out of the way. Alistair's shoulders slumped, "No, really, Resa. I should have known what would happen when I walked into that house."

Ahh, now she understood. Resa set dagger and whetstone to one side and turned to face the defeated form of the Templar. She had wondered when this was going to come out. It had obviously been eating at him all evening. Seeing his unhappiness had all but convinced her to return to Denerim and speak with Goldanna once more. All right, perhaps "speak" was too broad a term. Maybe "break her like a piece of kindling" was more appropriate.

"Alistair," she said, her voice gentle, "You went in believing the good in a person you had yet to meet. You reacted with dignity and honor when the expectation was revealed as false," she laid her hand on his, "There is nothing foolish in that."

He stared down at their hands for a moment. Alistair turned his hand to link his fingers with hers, "You were right. I need to start looking out for myself more, making more decisions. I can't continue on pretending," his voice trailed off.

"Can't continue pretending that you won't have to grow up and be king some day," Resa asked, squeezing his hand as she moved to lean against him. She rested her head on his shoulder and he turned to place a kiss on her hair.

"You will keep me from doing something foolish, like trying to read a map, right," Alistair found it easier to smile and joke with her small frame resting comfortably against him.

Resa chuckled softly, and nodded, "Of course. You once told me that such things lead to you losing your pants," she paused and slanted a glance up at him through her lashes, "Although, in the right circumstance, that might not be so bad."

Alistair cleared his throat nervously, "Yes, well, it would have to be a very special circumstance."

He watched as Resa's smile took a decidedly wicked cast, "Let's work on finding that circumstance, shall we?"

Alistair gulped and shifted. When she looked like this, firelight dancing over her skin and sparkling in her dark eyes… Eyes that seemed to hold secrets he would be both blessed and damned to learn… He cleared his throat once more and Resa laughed. She leaned up and teasingly brushed her lips against his, "I leave you to figure out the circumstances," she stood in a single, fluid motion that made his mouth go dry.

"After all, they are your pants."


End file.
